Choices and Changes
by Lilysdementor
Summary: HPSS with a twist. Harry is rescued from his abusive relatives only to find himself living and falling in love with the most unlikely person. Things take a big turn at that point though, and the two must work together to distinguish the truth from the lie
1. Chapter 1

Title: Choices and Changes

Author: Jane Delight

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise does not belong to me.

A/N: This story will have two Parts, with every Part having its own set of warnings. If you're easily freaked out in an 'eeeuw-what-kind-of-person-even-thinks-about-these-things'-way, then I suggest you go read something else. It's the simple 'don't like, don't read' principle.

I started writing this in… Summer 2007, I think. Yeah. I have so far written 5 chapters. That's right. 5 chapters in 2 years. I know, I rule. So, learning from this, I have decided to post those 5 chapters (with plenty of space between each update :P) so maybe this new tactic will get me writing more frequently.

I love this plot with all my heart, so I will not be abandoning this story. Ever. Encouragement is much appreciated, though 

Summary: HPSS slash with a twist. Harry is rescued from his abusive relatives only to find himself living and falling in love with the most unlikely person. Things take a big turn at that point though, and the two must work together to distinguish the truth from the lie.

**Choices and Changes**

**Part I ****– Changes**

Warnings: Child abuse, slash. A lot of slash.

_Carlos:_

_[…]_

_O dreadful fate! Why was it so decreed?  
Why should two men, in all things else apart,  
Concur so fearfully in one desire?  
Roderigo, here thou seest two hostile stars,  
That in the lapse of ages, only once,  
As they sweep onwards in their orbed course,  
Touch with a crash that shakes them to the centre,  
Then rush apart forever and forever._

_(Act 1, Scene 2 of Don Carlos by Johann Friedrich Schiller)_

**Chapter One**** – The Werewolf**

Pain. He had forgotten how it felt when it was absent. Over the loud pounding in his ears, Harry James Potter could identify the sound of his uncle closing the door to his bedroom, followed by loud thuds created by said uncle walking down the stairs, presumably into the kitchen, where his wife, Petunia, would be in the middle of cooking dinner.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and tried to make out his surroundings, which, in the absence of his glasses, were rather blurry.

He was lying on the floor, on his back, at the opposite end of the room as his bed. Upon noticing this, Harry let out a frustrated groan. It seemed as though he'd have to spend the night on the floor again, as it was unlikely that he'd make it all the way to the somewhat soft bed.

Not that his room was terribly big, mind you, but today had been the third day in a row that he'd been beaten quite extensively by his uncle and occasionally his cousin, so he really was in no fit state to move at all.

Upon arrival at number 4 Privet Drive, Harry had immediately been locked into his room, being occasionally let out to use the bathroom for no more than a few minutes. Food was delivered through the cat flap, which had been installed in his door the summer before his second year.

From what Harry had learned from the shouting matches between his uncle and aunt, Grunnings, the company where his uncle worked, was having some financial problems, causing his uncle to have a shorter temper than usual, as the possibility of losing his job became more and more realistic.

Harry had, in light of recent events, taken up a new role in the Dursley household. He was now the way to relieve stress, taking up the title of 'punch bag'.

However, a small part of Harry was thankful for the beating and the pain. It distracted him, however momentarily, from thinking about his late godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius, who'd been the closest thing to a father figure for Harry for the short time that he'd known of his existence and of his innocence, who'd been taken away from him, one minute he had been there, the next, he'd been swallowed by the 'Veil of Death', as Harry had dubbed it in his mind. A large aching gap had appeared where once Harry's hope of a future with his godfather had been, making him unable to feel any positive emotions - quite like a Dementor - every time he thought of his beloved godfather.

He wondered how Remus Lupin, the last true Marauder, was fairing. Probably worse than he, although at that moment in time Harry had trouble imagining how anyone could be feeling worse than himself. That thought, coupled with the burning pain as he tried to move himself into a more comfortable position, brought him onto the topic of that damned prophecy.

Any choice he'd previously had in regard to his future had been taking away from him – by Trelawny, at that. The thought that maybe he hadn't been so wrong after all last year, when he'd thought that he was the weapon the Order had discussed, had crossed his mind repeatedly since the start of the summer holidays. In hindsight, Harry had realized that Dumbeldore wasn't all he was cut out to be. Sure, he was powerful and sure, Voldemort feared him, but the Headmaster of Hogwarts had made many a mistake in his time as well. If he'd known the prophecy all along, then why hadn't he trained Harry? Told him the prophecy? And how come the apparently omniscient headmaster had always been absent when Harry had had to confront Voldemort and his Death Eaters?

His breath had become laboured, and without a reason to keep hold on consciousness, Harry's world went black.

ChangesChangesChangesChangesChanges

In a small, neglected room at number 12 Grimmauld Place, Remus Lupin was trying to drown his sorrows. Trying, being the key word. Werewolves didn't lose their inhibitions easily, a fact which the shabbily dressed man was rediscovering this very minute.

Weeks had passed since he'd lost his mate, Sirius Black, and he was still grieving, with no end in sight. He'd actually contemplated killing himself, yet he knew that that wasn't an option. He was needed, by the Order, but most importantly, by Harry.

Yet every night when he lay down in his bed, a bed which he used to share with Sirius, Remus imagined he could smell the remnants of his aroma on the pillows, the duvet - hell, even the mattress - and he'd think about death, if he would find peace there, with his lover, or if it would just be dark, cold nothingness.

He yearned for Sirius. Every second of every minute of every day, since the day he'd discovered his love for the canine animagus. He couldn't concentrate on anything; the only time that he'd forced himself to pay attention was when Dumbeldore had forbidden anyone from contacting Harry. The wizened headmaster seemed to think that the isolation would be good for him. Remus couldn't imagine why it would be. He only hoped that Harry was fairing better than him, yet knew that that would be unlikely.

He had lost his best friend, his lover, his life mate. There would be no other for him – that, he knew. Harry had lost something resembling a father for him and with him hope for a better future, away from his relatives.

At the thought of the Durselys Remus let out a near animalistic growl. He didn't like the family and could smell the resentment they held for Harry a mile of. Something didn't seem right with them; the fact that both male members of the Dursley family were so blatantly overweight, whereas Harry was rather malnourished. He knew Harry didn't like his relatives, and the more he thought about the matter, the more suspicious and uneasy he became.

Finishing his glass, he made a spontaneous decision to pay a visit to the Dursley residence, to check that the Dursleys had indeed heeded the Order's warning to not harm Harry. Pausing in his actions, he remembered Dumbeldore's insistence to not bother Harry, to let him grieve in peace. Shrugging mentally, Remus went out into the hall to grab his coat. Dumbeldore had made mistakes before, and he personally thought it would be a good idea to let Harry know that he was there for him, that he wasn't alone.

Exiting the old house, he felt a cool breeze blow across his face, sweeping his greying hair back. Then, with a small 'pop', he was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Choices and Changes**

**Part I – Changes**

**Chapter Two**** - Rescue**

If any residents of Privet Drive and the surrounding area had been present in the small, dark alleyway, they would've heard a small 'pop' before a dishevelled and oddly dressed man stepped out of the shadows and into the light of a nearby street lamp.

As it was, there were no Muggles or wizards present, the few who were still awake wouldn't have noticed Remus Lupin anyway, as he'd applied a notice-me-not charm onto himself before leaving the alleyway.

One quick glance around assured the man that his arrival had indeed gone unnoticed. And so with brisk steps he walked in the direction he knew number 4 Privet Drive to be located.

Upon arrival, he noticed two things simultaneously: the first was that the curtains were closed, yet a bit of light managed to seep through, meaning that at least one occupant of the house was currently awake. The second thing was far more disturbing. The stench of blood, combined with feelings of pain and despair were nearly tangible in the air.

Letting out a low growl, Remus strode towards the door and knocked hard. Soft cursing and heavy footsteps later, the door was ripped open and he came face to face with one annoyed Vernon Dursley.

One glance at his dishevelled attire and a derisive snort later, he was once again facing a closed and locked door.

Taking a deep calming breath, he knocked again, only to be met with silence. It seemed the Dursleys had decided to ignore him. Looking around to ensure that no one was watching, he drew his wand and muttered a quick unlocking charm, causing the door to silently swing open.

The light, which Remus discovered to have originated from the living room, had been turned off, so the wizard decided to use magic to light up the corridor he was now standing in.

The smell of suffering had only increased after he'd opened the door, and he was now following the smell up the stairs and towards a door which had several locks on it. With his increased hearing, Remus could identify the sound of laboured breathing, mingled with what was definitely Harry's scent.

Vowing he'd come back to have a _nice long chat_ with the Durselys about the treatment of his late lover's godson, he whispered a few more charms to unlock the door in front of him, and was met by complete darkness. It seemed the window which must have been existent at one point was no longer being used as such.

He quickly re-lit his wand, seeing immediately that the bed was not only covered in blood, but also empty. Fighting nausea at the intense smell, Remus quickly stepped further into the room, only to see what he'd expected, yet dreaded all along.

_Harry__._

His clothes were torn and bloodied, his skin covered in bruises and his breathing sounded decidedly unhealthy. It was uneven and shallow, and once or twice he seemed to choke, only to continue breathing as if nothing had happened.

The only reason Dursely was still alive was because Remus knew that Harry needed medical attention. Immediately. So he conjured up a stretcher and levitated Harry onto it. He then removed the emergency Portkey Sirius had given him just weeks before his death from his pocket, held onto the stretcher, activated it, and was soon surrounded by the white of Hogwarts' Hospital Wing.

ChangesChangesChangesChangesChanges

His mind seemed to slowly regain wakefulness, and Harry could make out the sound of muffled voices nearby. His first attempt to open his eyes was unsuccessful, though when he tried a second time, a painfully bright light immediately filled his vision, forcing him to close his eyes once more. Letting out a groan, he realised that he was no longer at the Dursley's, and by the lack of pain, someone must have taken care of his injuries – most likely by magic.

A familiar voice suddenly broke through his thoughts, reminding him that he was not alone.

"Harry? Are you awake?"

Opening his eyes, only to be blinded once more, he let out another groan, which, miraculously, was interpreted correctly, as another familiar voice told him seconds later, "The lights have been dimmed, Mr. Potter"

Carefully, he opened his eyes for a third time, making out the blurry outlines of two figures standing next to his bed. He felt more than saw one of the figures putting his glasses into his hand, which he then promptly put on.

The two figures were quickly identified as Poppy Pomphrey and his ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Remus Lupin. That could only mean one thing – he was at Hogwarts, in the Hospital Wing.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" asked Remus, his concern evident.

If he was in Hogwarts that meant that someone would have to have taken him from the Dursleys. Which meant that someone knew that he had been beaten by his relatives…

"Mr. Potter?"

Which meant that they knew. Professor Lupin and Mme Pomphrey... Dumbeldore and the other teachers probably too… _Snape. _How was he ever going to live this down? He could already imagine his first Potions lesson...

"MR. POTTER!"

Harry jerked back from the nurse's frustrated shout. Only then did he realise that both the Professor and Mme Pomphrey had been trying to attract his attention.

"Sorry?" His voice was raw from lack of use. How long had he been unconscious?

"It's alright, Harry," replied Remus, whilst handing him a glass of water from his bedside table.

"You've been unconscious for a week, Mr. Potter" Had he asked that question out loud? "Your relatives did quite a bit of damage, and your body needed the time to heal, so we thought it best to wait until you regained consciousness on your own, without outside interference.

Taking a gulp of water, he set the glass back onto the table, before asking his next question.

"How did I get here?"

At this, Mme Pomphrey shot Professor Lupin a for Harry unreadable look, before returning to her office, closing the door behind her.

Professor Lupin waited until she was gone, then sat himself on the edge of Harry's bed.

"How are you?" he asked again.

"I'm fine, Professor", replied Harry dutifully. What did the man expect him to say?

A sad smile crept onto the Professor's face, as he replied "I'm no longer your Professor, Harry, and under the circumstances, you should really call me Remus."

What circumstances? Harry was about to ask, when the Profe- no, Remus - started speaking again.

"A week ago, I decided to check up on you. Dumbeldore had told us that he thought it best for you to be left alone, to grieve in peace" What?! "I disagreed. So a week ago I decided to check if you were okay." Harry wondered whether Remus realised that he was repeating himself. Then again, he looked as though he was having trouble remembering what had happened. That, or he didn't really want to remember.

"When I arrived at your house, I knew something was wrong. Your Uncle denied me access, so I... err... broke in." Harry felt oddly touched that the rule-conscious Professor had broken the law for him.

"I went up the stairs, following the smell." Smell?

Remus must've seen his confused look, as he elaborated "The smell of blood, fear, pain... and the smell of you. You see, every living creature has their own scent. As a werewolf, if I concentrate, or if there aren't a lot of other scents in the area, I can identify who or what the scent belongs to, as long as I have met that person before. I thought Professor Snape made you read the chapter on werewolves? But I digress. The point is, I followed the smell to your room, opened the door with magic and... Oh Harry... how long did they keep you in there?"

Being a bit frightened to reply, not only because of Remus' reaction to his answer, but also of the tears that seemed to well up in Remus' eyes, Harry quickly muttered his response, hoping that Remus hadn't heard and would let the matter drop.

However, judging by Remus' reaction, not only did the werewolf posses an extraordinary sense of smell, but also extraordinary hearing, as his face scrunched up in pain and anger.

Remus then looked at Harry and his entire face seemed to slacken. A deep sigh later, he said "I'm so, so sorry, Harry. I really am. I could've prevented this. I could've come earlier. I could've argued more with Albus. I could've..."

"Stop, Remus." Harry sighed and tiredly massaged his forehead. He knew he had to sort this out now, instead of later, after a long nap.

"Listen to me. What's done is done. What happened to me is not your fault. If anything, it's mine or the Dursley's or... or Dumbledore's." Seeing Remus' look at the mention of the Headmaster, Harry clarified.

"He knew I didn't like it at the Durlsey's. And yes, I realise that it's important for me to return there, but alone? I mean, at least last year there were guards around, who, had they been there this year, would've noticed something amiss. That aside, I would've liked to think that he'd at least discuss the matter with me, before cutting me of completely from the magical world. Then again, he might've been worried that I'd ruin his office again." He smirked in a way he realised a Slytherin might smirk, and quickly stopped.

Remus was looking at Harry with a slightly baffled expression. "Is it just me, or is this just the tip of the iceberg for you? In your relationship with the Headmaster?"

Harry smiled darkly. "Yes, Remus, yes it is." He was about to start a rant about his _favourite_ Headmaster, when Mme Pomphrey re-entered the room.

"Everything alright here?" Harry nodded. "Good. Now, Remus, I'm going to insist that you let the young man rest. He only just woke up!"

Remus sighed and got up from Harry's bed. "We'll finish this conversation later. I'm going to see whether Albus has decided where you'll be staying once Poppy's released you."

How had he forgotten that? "As long as it's not with the Dursleys", he muttered. Remus smiled sombrely. "I wouldn't allow that to happen, Harry." They shook hands and Remus left.

Mme Pomphrey had meanwhile fetched a potion from her office and insisted he drink it. Knowing there was no way around it; he did, and soon fell into a peaceful slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**Choices and Changes**

**Part I – Changes**

A/N: Here you all are, after a relatively long time I present to you the third chapter. I was on holiday for the past week, so I couldn't update… and now I've gone and caught a cold -.-

Enjoy! =)

**Chapter 3 – Grimmauld Place**

When Harry next awoke, Albus Dumbledore was seated by his side. Soft light falling in from the windows made his white beard appear to sparkle; his eyes seemed to regain their twinkling quality when he noticed Harry was awake.

"Harry, my boy, I'm glad you're awake, as we have many things to discuss."

Harry merely nodded and reached for his glasses on his bedside table.

"Both Remus and Mme Pomphrey told me what state you were in when you were found. I have only myself to blame, and hope that in time you can forgive me for my past mistakes."

Dumbledore reached to stroke Harry's hair, but Harry flinched away from the headmaster's hand. Dumbledore sighed and smiled sadly at Harry.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

Harry shook his head. He had decided that silence was best where the headmaster was concerned. That way, he couldn't slip up and tell the man what he thought of him.

Dumbledore frowned and seemed to consider his options. Then he said, "Mme Pomphrey has informed me that you are ready to leave the Hospital Wing. I've decided that it would be best for you to stay with Remus at Grimmauld Place. He'll be along shortly to collect you. You best get dressed."

And with that, he rose and left.

Harry was about to get up, when Mme Pomphrey came in carrying a stack of what appeared to be brand new clothes.

"The headmaster told me to give you these. He figured they would be better than your old clothes. Now get dressed, Remus shall be along shortly."

Harry waited until she had left before getting dressed. The jeans and white shirt fitted him perfectly, though somehow he felt odd wearing something so bright and clean. He wondered where his other stuff was.

Just then, Remus came in. Harry noticed how he seemed to do a double take when he set eyes on him, but shrugged it off without a second thought.

"Are you ready?" Remus inquired.

"Yeah…" said Harry as he walked towards the exit where Remus was standing, "what about my other stuff though? My wand and broom…"

"They've been collected from the Dursleys and are already at Grimmauld Place" he said glancing at the younger man who seemed to withdraw into himself at the mention of the Order's Headquarters.

"I've been living there since… since the beginning of summer. It'll be nice to have some company."

Harry nodded absently and continued walking. They appeared to be heading towards Dumbledore's office. He had been dreading this ever since the headmaster had told he was to live in Sirius' old house. A deep sinking feeling had been forming in his stomach and was now slowly spreading out. He couldn't control it, didn't know how to.

He didn't know what to say, he didn't want to discuss his feelings, especially not here where anyone could be listening. So they walked on in silence.

A few minutes later, though it felt much longer, they arrived at the gargoyles guarding the entrance to the office. Remus said the password - 'Sugar Quills' - and they proceeded to stand on the twisting staircase, which carried them to the thick wooden door behind which the headmaster was undoubtedly waiting for them.

The feeling of dread increased, and Harry felt like turning around and running. But he didn't. Damn his Gryffindor side. Remus knocked and after hearing a faint "Enter" he opened the door, stepping inside the office and beckoning Harry to follow him.

"Hello Albus. We're ready to leave. You said to use your Floo?"

"Yes, yes indeed." The headmaster got up and handed Remus a bowl filled with Floo powder.

"You've travelled by Floo before, haven't you, Harry? Good. You know the address."

With a heavy sigh Harry grabbed a handful of the powder and threw it into the fireplace located on the right hand wall. Stepping into the now blue flames, he called out the address - number 12 Grimmauld Place - and was soon twisting and turning, fireplaces flashing past, before being spat out into a dark room with antique furniture which he recognised as Grimmauld Place's living room.

The feeling of dread had now enveloped his whole being. Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered the times he had sat in this very room with Sirius, laughing and joking, or in silence enjoying each other's company. Pain ripped through his heart and tore at his soul. His legs suddenly couldn't hold him anymore and he collapsed, only to be caught by strong arms.

"Steady there Harry." Remus said, concern filling his voice. "Come on, let's sit down"

Half walking, half being carried, he moved to the sofa. His eyes now unfocused, his mind blank. He didn't want to feel this pain. He didn't want to be here. He was blocking it out, ignoring it to the best of his abilities, but when he heard Remus' gentle voice saying, "It's okay to cry" he couldn't hold back, couldn't control himself and so he cried. Silent tears turned into sobs and soon he was enveloped by Remus' arms, pressed against his warm body.

After what seemed to be an eternity, Harry's eyes held no more tears and he slowly withdrew from Remus' warm embrace.

"Feeling better?" asked Remus.

"Yeah… well, a bit, anyway…"

Remus smiled at him "Sometimes it's good to let it all out. I should know. Come on, let's go into the kitchen and I'll put the kettle on."

Harry had to stop himself from touching every piece of furniture he passed on the way to the kitchen, in an attempt to feel closer to Sirius. Arriving in the kitchen, he paused in the doorway, to let the memories wash over him once more. Then, he sat down at the table, where Remus, who was now attending to the kettle, had already put out an empty mug for him.

"Your stuff is in the room you shared with Ron last time you were here. I'm in mine and Sirius' room."

"Okay."

Wait.

"Your's and Sirius' room? Didn't you have your own?"

It might've been a trick of the light, but Remus seemed to have paled. Then, he took a deep breath and turned to face Harry.

"Harry… Sirius and I… well, we had hoped to tell you sooner, but with all the things going on at the Ministry… and then…well, you know… I realise this isn't the best time, but I don't want to lie to you… Sirius and I were… an item, so to speak."

Harry blinked, frowned and blinked again. This was… surprising. Looking into Remus' pale face, he realised he should probably say something.

"Oh… ermm… alright. This is just a bit… well, surprising." Why did Remus seem so afraid? Oh! "I don't mind, if that's what you're worried about." Remus' face seemed to suddenly regain colour.

"That's… that's good of you. I'm glad you accept this. Not all wizards are as open…"

"They're not? But why? You're still human…"

Remus smiled sadly. "Ah, but I'm not you see. And, had you read the chapter on werewolves, you would know that we mate for life. So Sirius is… was, my one and only. I knew from the moment I saw him that he would play an important part in my life, but it was only as I matured that I realised just how important that part would be."

Remus' eyes had taken on a suspicious shine, and Harry felt guilty yet glad when he turned around a bit longer than necessary to fill his cup of tea. Then, after handing Remus his own cup, and getting a steamy, hot one back, Harry watched the older man sit down at the table, opposite him.

They sat there, both lost in thought, staring at their cups, when suddenly a noise emerged from another part of the house – presumably from the living room. Sharing a look, they both got up and silently moved into the hallway.

They came to a halt in front of the living room door, Remus reached for the handle, but it swung open right into Remus' face, the force causing him to stumble to the side and onto the floor.

Thus, Harry was now standing right in front of one Severus Snape.

Their eyes locked and Harry felt a jolt go through his body. Snape's eyes seemed to give him a once over, but Harry concluded that his imagination was playing up again, when that deep, cold voice of his Potions Master cut right through him.

"I suppose you were never taught that staring is rude, Potter? Or is that a genetic malfunction? And you, werewolf, stop pretending to clean the floor."

Remus finally regained his footing and managed a sheepish grin "Hello Severus. What brings you here?"

Snape sneered before answering "The headmaster has me playing courier, since some senile idiot forgot their Wolfsbane, and as much as I'd love to see what would have happened come full moon, the headmaster is of the opinion that _poor_ Mr. Potter has been through enough already and should not be confronted with a fully fledged monster."

Harry noticed that he was gaping. Did the man have no respect whatsoever? Surely Remus wasn't going to let this go? He could feel the anger, a pure, strong emotion he hadn't felt in a long time, growing within him.

"If you had only asked, I'd have gladly turned you into a frog a long time ago, Potter. It would've enabled you to catch flies to your heart's content."

Harry knew he had a temper, which he should learn to control, but right now, he didn't care much. Feeling this anger felt good in a twisted way. It made him realise that he was still alive, that he still had battles to fight, and a whole life ahead of him.

"Severus. Really. Must you be so sharp tongued? Harry's been through enough already."

"A few scratches never hurt anyone. Drama queen that he is he –"

Harry saw red.

"A few scratches? A few scratches?! How dare you?! Do you have any idea…? No, of course you don't! I forgot that you're a mean, cold bastard who's probably never felt anything except hate and anger in his whole bloody life! You –" a hand clasped over his mouth muffled his next words, and he angrily looked at the hand's owner - Remus.

Remus was looking down at him, apparently trying to force himself to appear stern, but not really succeeding. The twitching corners of his mouth gave him away.

It was then Harry realised he had just insulted a teacher, a teacher who already hated him more than anything else on earth. How did he get himself into these positions? He cautiously looked over to Snape, and nearly died of shock.

The man didn't look as if he was having a fit; his face hadn't turned red or some other unnatural shade that would imply anger or distress. No, Snape's face was blank. Just blank.

Then, with a smirk, he pressed the Wolfsbane into Remus' hand, turned around, strode over to the fireplace and floo'd away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Choices and Changes**

**Part I – Changes**

A/N: Here's the next chapter ;) I'm in a really bad mood right now, so forgive me for any errors I missed checking this thing again for the last time…

**Chapter 4 - Cleaning**

„Well… that was interesting."

Harry just noticed that he'd been staring at the fireplace, the image of Snape's cloak twirling out of sight imprinted in his mind, for at least the last minute, and he still had no answer to the question of why he was still alive. Surely Snape should've killed him by now? But he was gone, and both he and Remus were still alive. Speaking of Remus, he was sending him another amused look.

"Harry?"

"…yes?"

"You shouldn't take everything he says seriously. He doesn't mean most of it."

Harry blinked. Snape not being serious?

"Remus… are we talking about the same sadistic, evil, moody, bitter, sarcastic bat who just twirled out of sight?"

"Yes, you could describe him like that."

Harry was sure he was gaping again.

"Are you saying that _that_ Snape is 'just kidding' when he says he hates me?"

Remus frowned.

"He said he hates you?"

"Well, if 'it would make me very happy if you dropped dead on the spot' isn't a declaration of hate…"

"So he's never actually said that he hates you?"

"I think he's come close enough."

"If he hasn't said it then he doesn't."

Yep, he was definitely gaping.

"What are you talking about? There is no way that Snape doesn't hate me. "

Remus just shook his head with a smile and said "why don't you go unpack?"

Harry, not knowing what else he could do, nodded and started ascending the stairs. Something was different, he noticed, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

The room hadn't changed at all. There were two single beds and he noticed a bookshelf and a wardrobe in the corner. His trunk was standing in between the beds.

Sitting down on the one on the right, Harry sighed, before he started unpacking.

ChangesChangesChangesChangesChanges

What must've been an hour later, Remus entered Harry's room, only to find him curled up on the bed, staring at a page in a photo album.

"Harry?" Remus said softly as he sat himself down next to him.

Harry's green eyes were filled with tears when he looked up at Remus.

"It's just… hard" the boy said in whisper.

"I know" Remus replied, once more holding Harry close to him. "I've made us something to eat, maybe you'll feel better then."

With a soft sigh, Harry closed the photo album and rose.

Walking down the stairs, Harry finally realised what was missing: the house elf heads.

"Remus?" he asked tentatively, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer to his question. "Where did the heads go?"

Remus' face was unreadable. "I disliked them, so I got rid of them"

Harry nodded, happy that not too many details were given. At least now he wouldn't feel so watched when he moved around the house.

Dinner consisted of potatoes, ham, and broccoli. It seemed like it was his first proper meal in aeons. Granted, he knew it was a bit exaggerated – he'd had food at Hogwarts after all – but he didn't particularly care.

Over dinner Remus told Harry that he was planning to continue his cleaning of the house tomorrow. Figuring it would be good to distract himself, Harry agreed to the offer of helping. They would be in a part of the house unknown to Harry: the attic.

ChangesChangesChangesChangesChanges

The next morning Harry was awoken by sunlight attempting to creep below his eyelids. It took him a minute to remember where he was and once he had it took him another minute to let the emotions connected to this realisation sweep over him. Rubbing his eyes, his hand searched for his glasses and with them he was soon able to identify the numbers on his alarm clock. 10am. Time to get up, he thought. After showering in his ensuite, he went downstairs for some breakfast.

Remus was already awake, a cup of tea in front of him, next to it the Daily Mirror. He looked up as he heard Harry approach.

"Good morning, Harry. Sleep well?"

"Yeah" It wasn't even a lie. He supposed the recent events had caught up with him, propelling him into a deep and dreamless sleep.

"There's some tea if you want some and there should be bread and marmalade in those cupboards somewhere"

Harry smiled slightly and began searching for the afore mentioned objects.

Soon, he was sitting opposite Remus, munching contently on his toast. In between bites he asked Remus when he wanted to clean the attic.

"Whenever you're ready"

And so, after breakfast, they made their way up the many stairs. Both were rather curious as to what they would find in the rarely visited room.

Remus entered the room first, wand ready, in case some dubious creatures had been locked in there. But soon it was clear that the only danger waiting for them was asphyxiation due to dust.

The initial coughing and sneezing fits over, the two men moved further into the room and examined their surroundings.

There was an old brown sofa, and many, many plain boxes piled into one of the corners. Remus grimaced at the sight. With a flick of his wand, several lit candles appeared, floating around to give them light.

With a sigh he turned to Harry.

"Alright, let's get started."

Many hours and many filled bin bags later, their routine of Remus first running a line of spells on the object, then deciding whether it was worth keeping, selling or whether it should be just thrown away, was broken by a startled gasp from the werewolf.

Harry, who was in the process of dumping a severely scratched plate into one of the bags, turned around, alarmed.

"Remus?" he asked tentatively.

Remus was holding a small, round pendant, attached to a piece of leather string. When he wiped of the dust, Harry could make out the figure of a wolf – or was it a dog? – howling, with a full moon in the background.

"This… belonged to Sirius."

Harry's suspicion was confirmed.

Remus made his way over to the old sofa and Harry followed him.

Sitting down next to each other, Remus started talking, gazing at the pendant.

"After the war had started, those many years ago, Sirius and I started worrying constantly about each other. It ended up affecting our work for the Order, so Albus suggested we try an ancient spell. It was complicated, very complicated, but your mother," he cast a small smile Harry's way, "she helped us a lot. After a couple of weeks we finally managed to get it right."

Sensing Harry's curious gaze, he explained further.

"The spell was cast on this pendant. It allowed the wearer to be found by the person who knew the 'keyword', so to speak. A little incantation, which would activate the charm and the person carrying the pendant could be found regardless of most other spells, like Notice-Me-Not or even the Fidelius Charm. The plan was that whichever one of us was out on a mission would wear the pendant, so that in emergencies he could be found. We never did get around to testing it, as soon after your parents were killed and Sirius imprisoned. I wonder how it ended up here?"

Remus thoughtfully stroked the pendant.

"You know what Harry? I think this may be quite useful in the future. Take it, lest I start worrying too much about you too."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should keep it – it belonged to Sirius, after all."

Remus smiled.

"I think he would've wanted you to be safe and the thought of you risking your neck to safe me certainly doesn't make me feel very calm. So please, take it."

With those words the pendant was pressed into Harry's hands, who, somewhat awed, placed it around his neck. A warm glow spread over him and vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

Smiling slightly back at Remus, he whispered a small "Thanks" before they rose from the sofa, stomachs rumbling.

"How about we get a bite to eat and then come back later?"

Harry nodded and so they left the dusty room, into a realm of fresh air.


	5. Chapter 5

**Choices and Changes**

**Part I – Changes**

A/N: I'm terribly sorry about the long wait… school has started and driving lessons were eating my time too… that, and my social life just didn't want to let me go… anyways, here is the next chapter  Though I have to warn you – the next might take some time too, seeing as my parents will be on holiday soon and I will have to look after this household by myself…

**Chapter 5 – Severus Snape**

The next few days were spend travelling to and fro between the attic and the kitchen.

One evening, however, an unexpected visitor would bring change.

When Harry came downstairs, having cleaned himself up in his room for dinner, he was surprised to discover Albus Dumbledore sitting at the kitchen table.

"Good evening Harry."

Harry nodded at the headmaster and then sat down where a bowl of warm soup was waiting for him.

He noticed the headmaster examining him, and, knowing that the old man would speak when he was ready, Harry started eating, hungry from all the work he'd done throughout the day.

Remus joined them at the table soon after, and that was when the headmaster started to speak.

"I bring grave news, I'm afraid" Harry raised his eyes from his soup "Voldemort is set on recruiting werewolves for his cause. I'm afraid he will be able to tempt them by offering them equal rights – something he'd never give them, but I have no doubts that with enough persistence they will believe him. That is why I need you, Remus, to go undercover at one of the colonies on the border to Wales."

Harry did not like the sound of this. Remus risking his life? He opened his mouth to protest, but Remus' sigh stopped him.

"I'll do it. There's no other choice, really. What about Harry though?"

"Severus will be coming first thing in the morning – just in time to witness your departure. He's agreed to stay with Harry."

Snape agreeing to stay with him? Not bloody likely. More like conned, or something along those lines.

Remus seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as a small smile crept onto his face. Harry was not amused. Why Snape of all people? Dumbledore knew they couldn't stand each other. Which was probably the reason why Snape had been chosen.

Dumbledore reached into his pocket and withdrew what appeared to be a very old candlestick holder and a letter. "This Portkey will bring you to the colony at 10am. All necessary information is in this letter. I will contact you once you've settled in."

With those words Dumbledore rose, leaving the mentioned objects on the table. Then, with a final nod to Harry, he disappeared.

Harry stared at the spot the headmaster had previously been, before turning his gaze onto Remus, who was opening the letter.

"Must you go?" Harry knew he was sounding like a child, but it was unavoidable. Remus' gaze met his. He smiled sadly before replying.

"You know I must, Harry."

Harry sighed. He knew Remus was right, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"Why Snape of all people?"

Remus chuckled.

"I'm sure he's just as looking forward to it as you are," his expression grew serious, "Try to get along, Harry. It would make it easier on both of you. I know he's not easy to get along with, but I'm sure you two could, if you tried."

Harry didn't seem convinced.

"Try telling him that. He's the one provoking me – he hates me, I'm telling you."

Remus shook his head.

"Trust me, he doesn't – just trust me on this."

Shaking his head, Harry gave in, though unconvinced.

"I'm going upstairs to pack now Harry. You should relax a bit; you've worked very hard these past days and I'm sure you won't have much time for relaxing once Severus arrives."

Harry groaned and hid his head in his arms resting on the table. He only heard Remus laugh.

Seeing the truth in the older man's words though, he rose and bidding Remus a good night, he went up to his room.

ChangesChangesChangesChangesChanges

The next morning, Harry decided, should never have arrived. The only reason he got up was to say goodbye to Remus, really. This, however, was somewhat inhibited by Snape lurking somewhere in the background, so anything overly emotional was suppressed on Harry's part, out of fear that Snape would ridicule him later.

Once Remus had disappeared, Harry felt a sense of melancholy descend upon him.

Snape made sure he didn't remain in that state for long.

"Potter, stop moping like a puppy that's just lost its favourite toy. From what I've heard, you've done enough of that already. And do not glare at me that way, or I'll have to curse your eyes so they are quite literally glued to this book." He held up some thick, black book, its title in elegant silver letters: "The Fine Arts of Occlumency and Legilimency".

Harry scowled.

"Will we be continuing the Occlumency lessons?"

"I am still your Professor and you shall address me accordingly, Potter."

"Will we be continuing the Occlumency lessons, Professor Snape?"

"No, Potter. I quite simply refuse - even though the headmaster's heart would probably burst with joy should I change my mind. This book is simply for you to consume in your own free time, should you wish to do so."

Harry was surprised. He would've bet the contents of his Gringotts vault that Snape would at least check he was reading the book regularly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all… Immediately he wished he could take this thought back – had he gone insane already, just by spending a few minutes alone with the greasy bat?

"Can I go up to my room now?"

"Yes, Potter. Though be aware that you are expected to have breakfast at 8, lunch at 2 and dinner at 7 whilst under my supervision. That is all."

Harry nodded and took the Occlumency book from Snape's hand. With it, he made for his room.

It didn't take him long to get bored of lying on his bed. His sight fell on Snape's book. No, he hadn't sunk down that far, had he? He couldn't really be _that_ bored already? But… Snape wasn't expecting him to read it. He knew it was futile to _make_ him read it – he would forget half of it anyway. Besides, maybe if he mastered Occlumency, then… then he wouldn't be tricked again. No one would have to die because he was stupid enough to fall for Voldemort's trap.

Convinced of his own reasoning, Harry picked up the book and begun reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**Choices and Changes**

**Part I ****– Changes**

A/N: Okay, I realise that this chapter is ridiculously short. However, I've gone so long without updating that I thought better this than nothing. Though I have excuses! Two of my good friends moved away, I've had a non-stop headache for a few days now, and exams have started *sighs* and as for the next update… in 2 weeks I'm going on a 10 day school trip, until then we have exams, and then I'm going to be on holiday for another 10 days or so… but maybe I'll get something written on the school trip… my roommates are also slash lovers, so maybe they'll motivate me *g*

**Chapter Six - Awakening**

A loud rapping at the door awoke him. His eyes had no trouble adjusting to the light, for it was distinctly dark in his room. His glasses had slipped off his face, and his hands began searching for them, in the process finding the book he must have dozed off from.

"Potter! Open this door instantaneously!"

Memories slowly crept back to him. Remus leaving, Snape arriving, extreme boredom and then finally giving in to Snape's evil book.

"Hang on!" Harry muttered, only half intending it to be heard. Meanwhile, he had found his glasses and put them on.

"I've had enough of this nonsense, Potter!"

Light flooded into the room as the door was opened and an angry Potions Professor was standing in the frame.

The bat stalked towards him like an angry, hungry tiger. Harry, still a bit disorientated from waking up so suddenly, struggled to get off the bed.

Suddenly, he felt Snape's hot breath upon his cheek and the older man's nose nearly touched his.

Harry had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach and was oddly nervous.

"Potter," Snape growled, "what is so difficult about remembering dinner at 7?"

Harry blinked. Was this what this had been about? That he'd missed dinner?

"I, err, I'm sorry, Sir. I fell asleep."

Snape's eyebrows rose a good centimetre.

"You fell asleep? And what, in Merlin's name, could have bored your diminutive brain so much that it decided to turn off completely?"

Harry swallowed hard. Snape was not going to be pleased when he discovered that it was his very book that had made him fall asleep.

As if reading his mind, Snape turned towards the bed, his eyes immediately finding the book.

"Well, well, well, Potter. It looks as though you actually tried understanding Occlumency - I'll have to praise you for that – however; it also looks like you failed miserably. Maybe you should reread one of your Quidditch books instead – otherwise your brain might give up completely."

And with those charming words, the bat turned and stalked out of the room, turning around in the doorway to say: "You'll still be expected to eat something. Come downstairs when you have woken up."

And with that, he closed the door, drowning the room in darkness once again.

Harry was not pleased. It was true that the book was difficult to read, but that by no means meant that he would not manage it! Determined to prove Snape wrong, he decided to continue reading the book. He hadn't even finished the introduction yet…

His stomach interrupted his musing. He was hungry. He had two options: stay in his room, starving himself and making Snape mad, _or_ go downstairs, eat something and keep the peace.

He decided on the latter.


End file.
